8:00 a.m. As The Writer hacks away at an early chapter that she’s already beaten up twice, reflect that this may be an abusive relationship. In the First Draft phase, she was always excited to see you. Well, almost always. Your relationship was shiny with discovery and unexpected plot twists. She said it was exciting to work on a dystopian sci-fi story. She said she’d always loved dystopian sci-fi and that Brave New World was one of her all time faves.

Now she keeps saying things like “I can’t believe I was insane enough to try this” and “why didn’t I stick with contemporary realism?”

8:03-8:55 a.m. It’s like this relationship is all about her and her agenda. She has no respect for history! For perfectly good characters and plot twists and chapters! Even individual sentences are under attack. There’s a reason a lot of Second Drafts refuse to cooperate.

8:56 – 9:12 a.m. While she looks at Vice Dos and Don’ts (so early in the morning, which tells you something) compose an S.O.S.

9:13 – 9:52 a.m. Lose S.O.S. and any chance of rescue when she pastes most of a chapter into your S.O.S. document. She’s on a rampage, deleting like mad. On the plus side, feel a bit more svelte. Pray it will all be over soon and that Third Draft will see the relationship improve.

6:00 a.m. Get jerked out of sound sleep. Lay still while the pages that were worked on yesterday are reread. Listen as The Writer mutters curse words and strange sentences that mean pretty much nothing.

6:10-6:30 a.m. Twiddle your thumbs while she checks facebook, three newspapers and her email. She’s probably looking for good news. She does this a lot, in spite of the fact that there rarely is any. Feel like telling her she’d be more likely to get good news if she stopped dicking around and did some work. Refrain from saying it because your position as Second Draft is tenuous and you’d hate for her to change your title to Major Rewrite.

6:30-7:10 a.m. Feel alarmed followed by frightened when she finally starts writing, jamming whole new chapters and plot twists and characters into your middle. Rude! She’s just rude! She told you this process was mostly going to be “tinkering”. She lied. She’s always lying, like the way she’s always saying she’s going to “do” ten pages and only gets through six but still tells everyone she did ten. How can anyone trust such a person? It is all grossly unfair.

7:11-7:23 Wonder if the five pages of new writing make you look fat. They certainly make you feel fat. And a bit crazy, to be honest. That new character she just added is completely out of control. It’s obvious she has no plan, no matter how many index cards she tapes up or how many notes she makes.

At least she’s stopped writing for a moment and is now listening to that new swear-based song by CeeLo Green. It’s catchy but not so catchy that she should be writing letters asking his people why she can’t buy it in Canada. You’d think she wasn’t in the middle of working on a second draft, the way she is so easily sidetracked. CeeLo Green probably thinks she should finish her Second Draft in a careful and considered way and that’s why he’s not selling his new single outside the U.S.

7:24-7:32 a.m. Feel like flinching while her hands remain poised over the keyboard. She is trying to figure out what the new guy is going to say to the main character. Nothing intelligible, based on what he’s said so far! Wonder if she knows how that frown of concentration she wears when she writes is deepening her already extensive network of facial wrinkles. Someone should invent a computer screen that is also a mirror. That would teach her. It’s one thing to have Godlike powers over second drafts. It’s another to look as old as God.

7:33-7:58 Ugh. Slammed with another two pages of new writing, right where it hurts! Also, she could have been a bit more diplomatic about taking out chapter 21. So what if nothing happened in it? It had a right to exist! At least she saved it into another folder. She’ll miss it. Or someone will. Probably a reviewer, after the book is published. That will serve her right.

7:59-8:30 a.m. Look at her! Trying not to go on Google and check to see her last book’s stats. Don’t do it, Weakie! Ah… there she goes. Vanity googling is ugly to behold. It would be better if she’d just waste another hour or three looking at all those ads for European horses for sale that she will never be able to afford. Poor thing should be allowed to dream, since she’s really not getting anywhere as a rewriter.

8:31 a.m. She’s off for the first meal of the day. At least she remembered to hit save. She left the file open, but she’s kidding herself if she thinks she’s getting anything else done today.

9:40 a.m. Minimized. Let the neglect begin.

2:42 p.m.  Woken from a deep sleep for a little “deck writing session” a.k.a. Her making a big show of writing while drinking fancy coffee from that new espresso maker she bought. Deck writing smacks of exhibitionism. She’s not fooling anyone!

2:45 – 3:16 p.m. Okay, so that hurt. Nothing like being subjected to an uncontrolled spasm of writing and deleting and reading and relentless criticism to make a Second Draft feel unloved. On the plus side, now she’s on the cordless phone, wearing that ridiculous headset that makes her like an unsuccessful stockbroker. That’s probably for the neighbors’ benefit too. Sad really, but every minute she spends on the phone telling everyone how she did ten pages today is a minute not spent abusing helpless text. We Second Drafts have to take what we can get.

I cannot seem to blog and write the end of a novel. I admit this and have stopped trying. So… while I’m in the homestretch on my current project, I apologize for my dereliction of blogging duty.

Ummm, that’s it really. Writing between 3 and 5 pages a day. I got up at 5:30 this morning thinking that I might finish today. It was not to be. But the finish line for the first draft is in sight. Blurry, yet, but we have visual contact.

I hope you are all enjoying your summer and that the sky where you are is not covered with a dingy pall of forest fire hellsmoke but that if it is, you enjoy the pyrotechnic sunsets.

xoxo

#1. Not know why you are receiving a service call. (Your modum only works intermittently, but you never noticed because you are working off someone else’s wireless.)

#2. Forget to tell him there’s another modum in the studio.

#3. When he has one connection fixed, tell him about the other modum, whereupon he realizes he fixed the wrong one.

#4. Continue your read-aloud edit of your new book so that he keeps wondering if you are talking to him. More specifically, say things like: “That’s some chicken!” and “It’s a rooster.” (Actual dialogue from new book).

#5. Ask him an uncomfortable number of questions about his pull-on booties. (The ones Shaw workers get are navy and have a pointy aspect that makes the workers look like enormous elves.)

#6. Change work locations frequently, so that every time he knocks on door to house you’re in the studio and vice versa.

#7. Further rattle his nerves by failing to control dog who is harmless, but barks like he’s a first degree relative of Cujo.

#8. Watch him drive away while saying a silent prayer that you never again need the cable guy to do a house call…

Neighbors Help Fight Fire

1. Drive home to get changed for beginner yoga. Imagine self limber and able to use only one block instead of two during forward bend. (Two blocks is basically the equivalent of dropping your hands to waist level while slouching.) As you round corner into your wooded neighborhood, notice figures scrambling around on construction site on hillside above road. Notice the flames licking at their feet. Notice the tiny garden hose with which they are combating flames.

2. Feel pre-yoga calm pop like an eardrum.

3. Drive car quickly to house. Park car. Stand, indecisively, outside car, wondering whether to get dressed and go to yoga anyway. If house burns, at least you’ll be wearing your yoga outfit, which is quite roomy and comfortable and does not to call too much attention to your body, which is not flexible. See dog staring at you from inside the car. Let him out. Continue weighing options.

4. Step onto road to look over at site of fire. See that it has grown to engulf most of hillside on the one way street leading into neighborhood. White smoke is surging into air, obscuring view of sky. Think that if you’re going to go to yoga, you better go now, because pretty soon the road will be blocked. Notice dog noticing fire and then sending reproachful glances your way. Wonder if he knows you’re thinking of going to yoga and leaving him alone to deal with the fire only five doors down.

5. Take a look at cedar sided and roofed house. Take a look at trees surrounding house and dense undergrowth. Tinder-like grasses. Sticks and other kindling  piled here and there. Get hit with the sudden awareness that house is about to catch on fire.

6. Turn in a circle five times.

7. Run up stairs. Unspool garden hose. Begin frantically watering garden.

8. Remember episodes of Rescue Me. Stop watering garden and start imaging what it would be like to have visions of Jesus and Mary. Wonder if Dennis Leary is in recovery. See dog staring at you with evident concern. Think of the parts in Rescue Me where they actually fight fires. Inspired by that example, start watering some of the kindling around house.

9. Wonder why the stupid nozzle’s most powerful setting is “shower”.

10. “Shower” a gentle sprinkle of water on bottom quarter of cedar siding of writing studio because that is as far as you can get the limp stream to reach. Think of troublesome work in progress and the hundreds of index cards surrounding your work space. Abandon studio.

11. See that smoke had gotten thicker. It now looks like a forest fire is raging at end of neighborhood. Decide to call fire department.

12. (Ring. Ring.)

E. “Fire, police or ambulance?”

S: “Yes!”

E: “Which one?”

S: “Maybe all? No. I mean, Fire.”

E: “Long Lake?”

S: “Yes.”

E: “We’ve got it.”

S: “Oh. Well thanks.”

13: Hang up. Glad to have done duty, but feeling slightly let down and like you might be the kind of person who clogs up phone lines during an emergency.

14. Grab hose. Drop hose.

15. Decide to run into street.

16. Decide to change first.

17. Spend three minutes deciding what to wear in the event of a forest fire.

18. Choose the skirt you got in Jackson, Wyoming. It’s actually a skort, but you figure you can wear it as pajamas when you move into the Castaway Motel because your house burned down.

19. Run into street.

20. See neighbor on motorcycle turning out of his driveway.

21. Scream at him incoherently.

22. See him glance at smoke then drive away from the fire as fast as his motorcycle will go. Conclude that he’s afraid of fire. (Later find out he just misunderstood what you said and thought he had to alert other end of street.

23. Run down hill toward fire. See that it has engulfed hillside completely.

24. See girl watering area around house near fire. See fire heading toward her. Well, it’s not exactly racing, but it will get there eventually.

25. Run up to her and tell her not to get burned. Run away.

26. Turn in four circles in street. Gnaw knuckle.

27. Start babbling at strangers about how you’re missing yoga and were hoping today you’d only need one block and where are the fire trucks. And also, WHERE IS DENNIS LEARY WHEN YOU NEED HIM??

28. See fire truck arrive. Note that in real life, firemen don’t appear to be delusional or drunk, at least not while on the job. None appear to be hallucinating dead relatives or religious figures.

29. Note that in real life fireman seem kind of chill. They talk to each other about what to do and how to do it. They don’t turn in circles or run into street or get  weepy at the appearance of flames. Feel a little uncomfortable at how calm they seem. When another neighbor says she wishes they’d go a little faster, tell her with more confidence than you feel that they’re “probably strategizing.” Realize it’s time to do something about being such a pompous ass sometimes. Wonder if beginner yoga will help with this, too?

30. See news cameras and reporters arrive. Decide the skort was a poor choice.

31. Notice fire licking near a tree far below were the firemen have moved to begin training their powerful streams of water. A lone fireman is wandering around in the shrubs. He seems lost. Debate with neighbor whether to mention to him that there’s a fire lower down that is about to get into a tree.

N: (Tinkling cubes of ice in tall glass) “Do you think we should mention those flames?”

S: “Um, yes?” Turns in small circle.

N: (To fireman, scrabbling around on the hillside like an ant trying do some task only an ant would understand. Only the fireman is more handsome and dressed all in yellow.) “Excuse me, do they know there’s a bit of fire over here?” (Drinks deep from tall glass. Visibly relaxes.)

F: “They can see it.”

S: (Jumping, unwanted, into conversation. Shrilly:) “Yeah! And it’s going in the tree! It’s going in the tree!”

F: “They can see it. By the way, what street is this?”

S: “Oh my god! It’s our street. Where are you trying to go???”

F: (Points to other firemen, now perched on street above, trying to keep fire from reaching the house directly above.) “There.”

S: “Oh my god! But what about these flames down here.” (Now spinning in circles while speaking to fireman.)

N: (Looks again at flames, with a calm almost as implacable as that of the firemen.) “You know, I wish there was another fire truck down here.” (Takes another soothing, refreshing drink.)

S: (Screeching now.) “YES! YES! THAT’S WHAT WE NEED! WHY DON’T WE HAVE ANOTHER FIRE TRUCK!?”

(As if on cue, another fire truck pulls up. More relaxed firemen disembark. Put out fire that has been menacing tree.)

S: “Oh.”

N: (Leans casually against different tree.) “Good. Now that’s what I like to see.”

By now at least a dozen neighbors are milling around. Fire is out. Firemen are drenching area as a precaution.

32. Return home to find all your doors open and all your clothes on the floor and dog staring at you like you just tried to give him away to the local dog fighting syndicate. Apologize to dog.

33. Just out of interest, go into intact writing studio and try forward bend. Discover that you now need three blocks instead of just two.

Larry King is retiring, but never fear because Winston is still on the job!

I’ve been home from Jackson Hole, Wyoming for almost fourteen hours and the urge to buy a cowboy hat is starting to fade.

Thanks to Tim Sandlin and all the terrific writers I met at the conference. If you’re interested in attending a writer’s conference, I strongly recommend the Jackson Hole Writer’s Conference. The ratio of faculty to attendees is low, the courses and talks are wide-ranging and the people are undeniably cool. Also, the setting is magnificent and you will probably end up buying a belt buckle and perhaps also an ornate cowboy hat edged with fancy blanket stitching.

Me, I ended up eating s’mores with Patty Smiley, Lise McClendon and Debby Turrell Atkinson, three fabulous  and funny mystery writers. I stole these photos from Lise’s facebook page.Lise…

Debby.

Patty…

Now doesn’t that look fun?

Other activities included consultations with writers, workshops and I gave a talk on how I became a writer. “The path, my friends, was winding…”

Okay, I’m off to a book club to discuss Alice, I Think, also known as my first child. Luckily for me, the book club is four doors down. I hope not to be tempted by any cowboy hats on my way.

xoxo

Hi all,

If it wasn’t great enough that I’m basking in the sunshine in glorious Jackson Hole, Wyoming with a group of avid writers in all stages of their careers, my editor just sent me the U.S. cover for The Woefield Poultry Collective.

The designers hit another one out of the park!
Cover day is like Christmas without all the overeating and guilt. Thank you Jeanette and Harper U.S. cover designers!

P.S. Please disregard the quotes. Ahem.

xoxo

Here’s our next installment of the Lucky Bitches Advice Column. Today’s advice-giver, on the sticky topic of meetings,  is Fluffy Sunshine. Part of her story is included in Chapter 21 of Nice Recovery. She knows what of she speaks.

Dear Bitches,
I am new in recovery. I’ve been clean and sober for almost two months but I’m really bored and lonely without my old friends. I tried those twelve step meetings but I sort of hate them. Okay, I really hate them. I’m afraid to get asked to share and everyone is really old.
Any advice to not have a sober life that sucks?

xoxoxo

Dear Newly Sober,
Congratulations on being sober for almost two months. That is a huge achievement! Wouldn’t it be nice to have some nice sober friends to share that with?
I am still not a huge fan of meetings, especially the ones with podiums, where you actually have to get up and look at people when you share, however, I know that most of the freedom that accompanies my sobriety is in those twelve step meetings. Everything I know about sobriety, I learned from attending meetings, working the steps and talking to other people who have sobered up before me (usually talking to them after a meeting.)
Not only that, a huge part of my recovery now is being able to help other young woman (like me and like you) who are coming into sobriety for the first time and are looking for someone to help guide them in their journey. I know for sure I am not going to meet these people sitting at home by myself feeling bored and alone.
That said, I want to emphasize the fact that I TOTALLY KNOW HOW YOU ARE FEELING RIGHT NOW! I still have days where I feel bored and lonely, but the difference today is that I pick up the phone and call someone who is lovely and sober, and we get together for coffee, go for a walk, go to the mall, or go to a meeting – TOGETHER! I also belong to an all women’s group, and I go to that meeting every week, no matter what, even when I don’t want to, because I am saving my own life today, with the help of other sober women, who loved me until I could love myself.
The wonderful thing about sobriety is that I am no longer alone, unless I choose to be. Do yourself a huge favour, look for a women’s meeting or a young people’s meeting in your area and reach out. Seriously, it will change your life, and your sobriety!

(Note from Susan: I also refer you to David Foster Wallace’s Infinite Jest for perhaps the most insightful and vivid portrayal of twelve step meetings in all of fiction. Yes, the book’s a tome, but it’s also an extraordinary work of art that you can use for weightlifting when you finish reading it.)

Let us close our LB advice column with two quotes from the late, great DFW:

“The parts of me that used to think I was different or smarter or whatever, almost made me die.”

“It’s all very confusing. I think I’m very honest and candid, but I’m also proud of how honest and candid I am — so where does that put me?”

by the unbelievably talented Girls from Ottawa!

Getting the Girl Trailer

(For some reason I can’t seem to embed this video.)

How amazing is this? The acting! The music! The editing and writing! Hollywood: are you seeing this?? Sign these girls up for multi-picture deals now. (And while you’re at it, make a major motion picture out of Getting the Girl. And an action figure out of Sherman.)

Thank you Girls from Ottawa. See you at the premiere!

xox